Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
The crowd cheers for Mr. Leroy as I reach for another ball in the bingo cage.
Just when I hold it up, my gaze falls on the figure in the back of the ballroom.
I’m not sure how long Cole has been here watching me onstage, but seeing him is thrilling in the same way it is, say, when you get electrocuted. Zap.
I stutter over the number, and the crowd starts mumbling.
What’d she say?!
I didn’t catch it.
Was it G-48 or B-48?!
“B-48!” I clarify, dropping the ball back with the other dead ones and then surreptitiously wiping a sweaty palm on my dress.
I’m desperate to look back up at Cole—to try to read his expression—but then someone near the back of the room shouts, “BINGO!”
They know the drill. The person’s card will be checked by a staff member, and if they haven’t cheated (at their age, these people have very little to lose), they get to pick something from a curated prize table, which includes such priceless items as a plastic Siesta Playa key chain, a large-print sudoku book, a needlepoint pattern of a whale and dolphin holding flippers, and a bag of Werther’s Originals. They rave about the offerings.
“Okay, we’ll take a short dance break while we check their card!” I tell everyone, waving for the DJ to turn up the music a bit. “Then we’ll start the next round!”
I hop offstage with plans to head toward the bathroom, but instead my feet carry me straight to Cole because I’m a glutton for punishment and I haven’t seen him in a few days. He watches me approach with a level of arrogance that makes me shiver. I’ll never understand why he’s so intimidating. He’s not that much older than me, just a few years. It’s the black suit, maybe. The shiny metal name tag: COLE CLARK, ASSISTANT DIRECTOR OF OPERATIONS.
Ooh la la.
We skip the polite greetings because neither one of us has bothered with them in months. I go straight for the kill.
“Come to play with your friends? I’m sure we can find you a bingo card. Be warned, though, the needlepoint patterns are going fast. I hope luck is on your side.”
He almost smiles. “Just checking in on things.”
He surveys the room as if to prove his point, and I’m treated to a view of his jawline. I focus my attention there before he looks back down at me and stares a beat too long at the big purple flower in my hair.
“I’m assuming you heard about the limbo incident earlier . . .”
It’s probably why he’s here, to slap me on the wrist and dole out the necessary punishment.
I swear he’s fighting back a laugh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. I hold perfectly still, like maybe he’ll give into the feeling if only he forgets that I’m here watching him. Laugh, damn it.
It doesn’t work. He composes himself, drops his hand, and shakes his head. “Why can’t you just take it easy on these people?”
“Because they like to have fun! I like to have fun. Look. See?” I start to dance in front of him, shimmying and being silly to see if I can succeed in breaking his character. He’s like one of those stuffy British royal guards. No smiling! No personality whatsoever or the king will hear about it!
He sighs.
I continue, shimmying forward and back now instead of side to side.
It’s a game.
How long can I force him to stand here and watch me make a fool of myself?
How long can he keep from laughing?! I’m laughing.
“Oh fine.” I toss my hands up. “God, you’re so annoying.”
He ignores the jab. He knows there’s no heat behind it. I’ve been calling him annoying for as long as I’ve known him.
Cole and I met my very first day on the job. In fact, he was the very first staff member I met at Siesta Playa. He gave me my uniform, showed me around the resort, and plopped me at my dorm room in staff housing like he was hoping he’d never have to deal with me again.
We were a disaster from the start. That day, my flight was late getting in. On top of that, the airline lost my luggage. I left a message with the hotel, but I guess word didn’t make it to Cole. Apparently, he was standing there in the lobby for a good long while by the time I arrived, sweaty and flustered, blowing loose strands of hair off my face. I hate to admit this, truly I had plans to take it to my grave, but my first impression of Cole was that he was smoking hot—like Do a double take, press a hand to your heart, blink three times, and try to figure out how to quickly conceal your reaction to him hot. I made the mistake of trying to engage him in friendly conversation and managed to put my foot in my mouth almost immediately.